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... he data as he stalked toward Ryan. Malik had let go, but stayed close, just in case. Ryan stood still, breathing steady now.
Crawford stopped in front of him, brows furrowed as he flicked through the report. Line after line passed—until something made him freeze.
"Blood alcohol content, point four percent?" His head snapped up, eyes sharp.
"You take a damn bath in whiskey last night?"
Ryan didn’t flinch. "Had a few too many. That’s all."
"A few?" Crawford ...
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